


Nicudy

by SDLynn



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 23:56:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6350737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SDLynn/pseuds/SDLynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life after the movie. First chapter introduces to Nick's apartment and Judy's predictable problem. Also talks about fox versus bunny diets. Incomplete. Don't know when I'll get back to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nicudy

Judy’s first visit to Nick’s apartment was a surprise. She hadn’t exactly imagined him living in a hole in the ground, she thought to herself, but she hadn’t realized it would be such a nice place. He had a two bedroom flat in the top floor of a four story complex. He lived on the outskirts of downtown near the public transit that served the city. The far wall directly in front of her had a view of the canal. When he let her in he carelessly tossed his uniform winter coat onto the couch. 

“Do you want a drink or something?” Nick asked, absently glancing back over his shoulder at her. 

“Sure,” she said, brightly. He moved into the kitchen. Housing prices were expensive in the city, especially downtown, but she remembered what he’d told her about his income when they’d first met. He could afford this place. The living room was small, consisting of a beige couch facing a flatscreen television and a few small, white tables. Next to the television was a door that led out. Judy peered through the glass door and saw that he had his own balcony with an outdoor chair and table. 

“I’d give you the grand tour,” Nick called from the kitchen, “But the only thing you can’t see from the living room is my bedroom.”

“It’s okay,” she replied, too loudly because he was back again and he was handing her an alcoholic beverage. 

“Thank you,” she murmured, taking the glass of red wine. She was surprised but they were both drinking age.

“I can get you something else,” Nick volunteered. Maybe he had picked up on her momentary hesitation. 

“This is fine,” she reassured him, taking a sip. She couldn’t resist the face she made, though.

He grinned, “Not a fan of reds?”

“I just,” she felt flustered, “I don’t drink much.”

“Let me get you a wheatgrass smoothie,” he offered, “I think I have a few.”

She opened her mouth to protest out of politeness but he flashed her a smile and went back into the kitchen. She followed him this time. 

“It’s really fine,” she said, eyes darting to quickly take in her surroundings. The apartment looked old but the kitchen appeared recently remodeled. The appliances, including the laundry washer, all appeared to be new. The kitchen cabinets were painted red with white countertops and walls. Behind the bar was a hallway made mostly on transparent, glass walls. The bedroom, she thought, because the glass hallway was the only thing she hadn’t seen when she’d walked in. 

“The bathroom is attached to the bedroom,” Nick said, noting her lingering stare.

“I like the glass hallway,” she told him, reluctantly letting go of her glass when he reached for it. 

“Me, too,” he admitted, handing her back a green drink, “It was my idea to build it that way.”

She looked at him, “You helped design the apartment?”

“My family owns and rents out the place,” he told her, “The manager that lives downstairs is my cousin. My cousin let me remodel the place, at my own expense, so I got to do what I wanted with the space.”

“That was nice of him,” Judy said, then added as an afterthought, “Although the renovations must have improved the property value.”

He shrugged, “Only if I ever move out.” His toothy grin told her that he wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon. 

Judy pulled the white bar seat out from the counter island and hopped up onto it. 

“So, there were a couple of cases I remembered reading about when I still lived with my parents that I wanted to talk to you about,” Judy began, but Nick gestured for her to be quiet.

“Dinner first, carrots. We could order delivery or I could make something,” Nick told her, “Do you have a preference?”

“Whatever you want,” Judy offered, curious.

“I can fry up some tofu and power pasta,” he spoke as he bent to peer into the refrigerator, “I also have apples, plums, strawberries, and blackberries.”

“The fruit sounds great,” she responded, grateful he had food in his kitchen she could eat at all, “Can I say I’m a little surprised you have fruits and berries?”

He glanced over at her, surprised, “I’m a fox. I can eat mostly anything but I like fruits, berries, sunflower seeds, some fungi, and the occasional wheatgrass smoothie. Do you mind if I make myself the tofu and pasta?”

“I don’t mind at all,” she protested quickly.

“I only thought of it because I can’t eat tofu,” Judy murmured, watching him wash a couple of apples, “I tried it once and I got sick.”

“You probably can’t eat power pasta, either, then,” Nick advised her as he began slicing the apples. 

“What’s it made of?” Judy asked, curious. He pulled a couple of cartons of berries from the refrigerator and starting loading them up around the apple slices.

“It’s like Bugaburger, but with less flavor,” he admitted ruefully, “It’s made of ground insects like earthworms, grasshoppers, and caterpillars mostly with some grub moths, termites, and weevils for texture.”

“Protein pasta,” she thought aloud as Nick set a bowl of berries and apple slices in front of her. 

She was hungry but she waited to eat. He drizzled oil over a pan of tofu and boiled water for the noodles. Judy distracted herself by starting to think about why she’d come over the visit with Nick after hours.

“There were a couple of cases from a few years back,” Judy said eventually, “Before I entered the academy, when I was still living with my parents. They were interesting. One is unsolved, the other was ruled a suicide.”

“You want to investigate those in our down time?” Nick deduced, adding the partially cooked noodles to the frying pan. 

“If you want to,” she nodded, even though his back was turned. 

“Tell me about the cases,” he invited her.

“The first was a man found murdered on the beach of Outback Island,” Judy explained, “He was never able to be identified. A piece of paper was found in his pocket with the phrase, ‘The ending is finished’ written on it.”

“Odd thing for a dead man to have in his pocket,” Nick said reflectively, “Was that one ruled a suicide?”

“No,” Judy shook her head, “The Outback kit fox appeared to have been poisoned but no poison was ever identified. The man was carrying unused train ticket to leave the city, a bus ticket, a comb, a half-empty packet of fruit flavored chewing gum, a case of cigarettes, and a box of matches.” 

“I remember that murder now that you mention it,” Nick admitted, “No one knew what a kit fox was doing in the outback. All of the kit foxes lived in Wild Times or the Dock. Wasn’t there some kind of secret code?”

“When the police found the book of poetry that the phrase “The ending is finished” was torn out of there was something looking like a secret code, what might have been a telephone number, and another unidentified number imprinted on the back cover of the book. The book had been tossed into the open back window of a car parked near where the body was found on the night of the murder.”

“Imprinted?” Nick asked, coming to sit down next to her with his plate. Judy’s nose twitched reflexively. His food smelled really good, even if it wouldn’t be good for her to eat it.

“Someone wrote the secret code on a piece of paper while using the back cover of the book like a tabletop,” Judy explained, “The pressure of the pen left an impression on the cover of the book.”

“What was the cause of death?” Nick asked, in between small bites.

“The coroner’s report made it clear that the death was unnatural. There was blood hemorrhaging into the man’s lungs and stomach,” Judy shrugged, “No one has been able to identify the poison used, although it’s been suggested that the chewing gum may have been tainted.”

“No used chewing gum?” Nick asked, thoughtfully.

“None that the ZPD found,” Judy admitted, “It was clearly not a full pack of chewing gum, though.”

“If he was a smoker, and it sounds like he was, then a cigarette could have been poisoned,” Nick suggested.

“Sure,” Judy nodded, “But the cigarettes he had on him were all untouched and set was complete.”

Nick shrugged, “It wouldn’t be hard to replace a cigarette.”

“That’s true,” Judy made a mental note, “A brown suitcase was also found, with all of its labels removed, on the same day the body was discovered. All identification marks on the clothes had been removed except for the name "L. Troop" on a tie, "Troop" on a laundry bag and "Troope" with an e on a vest, along with three dry-cleaning marks.”

“People thought the dry cleaning marks were some sort of secret code,” Nick murmured.

“What? That wasn’t in the reports,” Judy was astonished.

“Certain disreputable organizations used codes that look dry cleaning marks to convey messages about illegal activities,” Nick told her, looking at her with hooded eyes.

“Oh,” Judy stared at him for a moment, “That is news to me.”

“Mhm,” Nick murmured. 

“The clothing provided a clue,” Judy continued, mulling over the new information even as she continued telling Nick what she knew, “The clothing was tailored by someone who had to have been from Little Rodentia. The thread and some of the alterations were too small to have been done elsewhere.”

“Interesting,” Nick nodded at Judy’s bowl, “Do you want more?”

“Oh,” Judy stared at the empty bowl, “No. I can’t eat too much fruit. Maybe another wheatgrass smoothie if you have another?”

“Coming up,” Nick took the empty dishes to the small, shiny dishwasher.

“What about the other case? The one that was ruled a suicide,” Nick asked when he set another smoothie down in front of her. 

“A woman, around the same time, was found dead inside her building’s water heater,” Judy told him. 

Nick’s eyebrows winged up impressively, “I’ve just added a new item to my list of “Ways Not to Die” today. That seems like a rough way to go.”

“Rough and the exposure to the hot water for at least eight hours meant that much of the evidence was washed away or destroyed,” Judy added.

“What makes you think it wasn’t a suicide?” Nick asked.

“I’m not sure it wasn’t,” Judy admitted, “But there is a surveillance video of the girl in an elevator prior to her climbing into the industrial sized water heater. It shows her acting strangely, as if she was afraid, and you see her talking to someone but there isn’t anyone there.”

“No one in view of the camera,” Nick supplied.

“Right,” Judy waved her hand, still holding the wheatgrass smoothie, “How do we know there wasn’t someone just outside the elevator, out of sight of the camera?”

“We have the video?” Nick asked, but he already knew the answer.

“Yes,” Judy nodded, “So, what do you think about spending our spare time on a cold murder case and a possible suicide?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Nick agreed, “But what about personal time, carrots?”

“What?” Judy was caught entirely off guard by the question.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t do much other than work and work some more,” Nick pointed out, “It’s not healthy. What are your plans for yourself, outside of work?”

“We went to the Gazelle concert together,” Judy argued.

“Judy, that was over a year ago,” Nick informed her dryly, “Aside from that, your entire life has been work.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Judy protested, but she drew a blank when she tried to think of a more concrete argument. 

“I have always believed in you,” Nick took Judy’s hand and covered it with his warm palm, “I want to express my concern as a person who truly respects you. I know you can conquer this addition to work the same way you’ve conquered other challenges in your life.”

“I do not need an intervention,” Judy scoffed, “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Take my advice or leave it,” Nick shrugged, pulling back from her, “I just want you to remember that your job doesn’t define all of who you are, Judy.”

He used my name, Judy thought, he must be serious.

“What do you suggest?” she asked.

“Take a trip to the movies,” he said. Her eyes widened and she opened when mouth but he added, “No crime dramas.”

“Oh,” she said it on a sigh of disappointment.

“What about a comedy?” Nick asked.

“I could do that,” Judy admitted.

“Good,” he smiled, “I have quite the collection to choose from.”

“Now?” Judy was surprised.

“No time like the present,” he muttered, walking into the living room, “I know you don’t have any other plans on a Friday night.”

“I was going to do some more research into the cold cases,” Judy admitted.

“Of course you were.”


End file.
